


Cruel Games

by midnightweeds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kinky, One Shot, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rare Pair, Romance, Semi-Public Sex, one of the weasley boys are dead you can decide who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:53:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8743399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightweeds/pseuds/midnightweeds
Summary: "Mine," he murmured.It felt like he rolled the word around in his mouth. Like he'd practiced it silently for months and savored speaking it out loud. She gave a soft cry, feeling his nails biting her skin."You've always been mine, haven't you? Even when-"





	

**Author's Note:**

> It was supposed to be sad but it turned into porn so there is that

"Good morning," Hermione murmured, smiling at George as he rolled over.

He tossed his arm over her waist, pushing the book she'd been reading from her lap. "Good morning," he grumbled, face pressed against her thigh.

She drew her fingers through his hair. "Did you sleep well?"

He shifted, laying on her thigh and reaching for the book. His other arm curled behind her. "Hey," he grinned, "I got you this," he told her, examining her potions text. "It's hardly Saturday morning reading."

She watched as he used magic to put it on her desk, his arms circling her waist as he nosed her shorts up her leg and kissed her inner thigh. "It's Tuesday," she reminded him, and felt his laugh vibrate in his chest.

As an afterthought, he added, "I always sleep well with you, Hermione."

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She turned her gaze out her bedroom window, taking in the grey London skies. "I missed you too, George," she told him.

He chuckled.

Her fingers continued through his short hair, nails against his scalp. After a few minutes, rain began to fall heavily against her window and fire escape. George gave a soft sigh, fingers gripping her side as he pulled her a little closer.

"Dean is opening the shop today," he told her quietly. "I don't have to be in until two or so."

"I'm off for a few days, actually. Reports to write- where are you going?"

"Shit," he murmured, dancing back and forth on the hardwood floor. "Why is your flat always so cold, Granger?"

"Socks in the bottom drawer," she reminded him. "I think you have some sweats in there, too, babe."

He stretched after half dressing, his pale, freckled skin practically glowing in the dim light. The wings tattooed on his shoulders shifted, ruffling slightly as he pulled on a shirt and disappeared into the bathroom.

Hermione summoned her book, casting a _lumos_ as she went back to reading, his pillow tucked safely under her arm. She looked up a few minutes later, smiling at him as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Setting her book to the side, she touched his face fondly. "I really did miss you, George," she murmured, appreciating his warmth against her fingers and leg.

He took her hand in his and kissed it. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Is that a real question?" She teased him, watching a slow smile stretch over his face. "I'm only with you because of your pancakes, Mr. Weasley."

He laughed, eyes sparkling as he leaned toward her. "That's not the only reason," he murmured, lips brushing her forehead. "Join me in a few minutes," he requested as he stood up, stretching again.

She glimpsed his stomach and reached out to slip her hand beneath his shirt. "And why would I leave my warm bed, to watch you talk to yourself while you make breakfast?"

"Because you love me?"

She drew her nails over his skin, frowning dramatically at him.

He grinned, pressing into her touch. "Plus I have some weed in my backpack."

She laughed. "You've got a deal, my love. Give me ten minutes."

* * *

She laid back down, drawing George's pillow to her face. Her eyes fell closed as she took a deep breath of him, sighing wistfully. His mother still washed his clothing, and with her eyes closed, it was easy to make believe, however briefly-

"Hermione! You've a Ministry owl that won't leave!"

She rolled over, groaning tired.

Forcing herself out of bed, Hermione tugged on a pair of sweatpants as she left the room. She offered the bird a biscuit when she reached the window, taking the letter. He turned his back on her as he finished his treat, looking angrily over his shoulder before taking off into the rain. Pressing the window closed she leaned against the wall, half reading the Minister's letter but mostly watching George in her kitchen, his back to her and head bent as he poured batter onto the skillet.

She was certain he was talking to himself, which brought a smile to her face as she hummed to herself. "God," she whispered, "I miss you."

He turned and grinned. "Anything good?"

"Ass kissing," she told him, crossing the room.

"Well," his eyes smoothed over her in a way that left her skin buzzing. "It _is_ a nice one, babe. And the Minister is definitely an ass man."

"You're an idiot," she commented.

He turned back to his pancakes, chuckling. She circled his waist when she was close enough, resting her check on his shoulder. George tensed for just a moment.

"Oh Georgie-boy," she breathed, hand smoothing down his stomach and just under his waistband. "Relax," she told him.

"At least let me finish, Hermione," he requested, adding a pancake to his stack before pouring for another.

She hummed thoughtfully, and tucked her fingers beneath his boxers, touching down his thigh as he jerked in her embrace.

"Hermione," he said.

She wasn't certain if it was a warning, and decided to take it as a challenge. She vanished his shirt and grinned at the way he jumped. "Relax," she told him again, kissing across his shoulders and back until he softened against her.

Hooking her thumbs in both waist bands, Hermione dropped to her knees, pulling his bottoms down his hips. She kissed his lower back, murmuring her appreciation when he arched toward her. Smoothing her fingers up his inner thigh, she touched his balls gently.

"Babe," he breathed, turning the stove off.

"I'm pretty sure I saw bacon and eggs that need to be made," she commented airily. She took his half-hard cock in her hand, tugging gently and grinning at the throaty moan it earned her. Leaning between his legs, she angled his cock toward her and licked the head, tongue swirling.

Distractedly, she realized that she could taste herself on him, and remembered that they'd sleepily made love in the middle of the night, George pressing into her from behind as they laid spooning, his leg heavy over hers, their hands intertwined at her breast.

"Hermione," he said, his tone more serious than before. She let him go, arm circling his thigh as she looked up at him, leaning against his hip.

George brushed his hand through her hair, cradling the back of her head against him. His gaze was slightly closed off as he looked over her features, searching for the truth.

She smiled at him. "I'll stop."

He didn't offer her much control sex, likely because he _knew_ , but sometimes he relaxed just enough for her to make believe-

"Don't," he told her as he turned the stove back on, using magic to start the eggs. He shifted his waist to shake her off him. "Go ahead," he poured more batter onto the skillet. "Suck me."

Hermione gave a soft sound in the back of her throat, repositioning herself behind him, encouraging him to arch his hips toward her. She kissed the back of his thigh, licking his balls as she reached for his cock. Their hands met there, his fingers wet with spit as they encouraged her toward the head.

"In your mouth," he demanded, voice barely a whisper.

She sucked his balls into her mouth as she thumbed the head of his hard length, spreading pre-cum over him. Letting him go with a soft 'pop', Hermione shooed his hand away, pulling him through his legs as he tilted his hips toward her. "Stop bossing me around."

He twitched in her hand, chuckling. There was a lusty edge to his tone that excited her. She loved him like this: hungry and eager and interested, even if it wasn't the same desperation-

"I'm going to fuck you against your living room window," he told her huskily.

She sucked him into her mouth, taking him as deep as possible.

He took a deep breath in, hips angling to offer her more. "Cheek and breasts pressed to the glass, arms behind your back as I pound into your little cunt."

She gave a small cry, sucking him eagerly. He twitched against her tongue. Lifting a hand from his calf to his hip, she circled her other arm around his waist, fingers rubbing through the curls at the base of his cock.

"Mmm, fuck, Hermione," he breathed, reaching behind him and pressing his hand to the back of her head encouragingly. "Just like that, baby. Take me in your throat."

Her eyes fell closed at the feel of his hand in her hair, cheeks hollowing against his thick length. George gave a shaky, breathy gasp and it pulsed through her to her core. She could almost-

He spilt into her mouth, and Hermione sucked down his cock to focus on the head, milking him. When she took his balls in her hand, rolling them, he cried out, causing her to moan hungrily. His fingers tightened in her hair just before he pulled her off of him.

His nose brushed hers as he leaned closer, thumb encouraging her to open her mouth. His checks were splotchy with color, eyes blown wide as they focused on her open mouth, which was full of his cum. "I love you," he reminded her.

It was the same tone he always used just before he was going to be something she wasn't going to like.

She nodded slowly, leaning into the fingers lacing through the hair at her nape. He spit in her mouth, pressing two fingers in and mixing his fluids together before drawing his digits over her lips and onto her cheek.

"Close your mouth."

She did, eyes falling closed as he leaned closer, lips brushing hers and tongue gliding over her check and mouth before pulling away.

Hermione opened her eyes to see him licking his lips, watching her carefully.

Belatedly, she realized she could hear the bacon cooking, and smiled widely at him, still holding him cum and spit in her mouth. He smiled too, eyes soft for just a moment before he tightened his fingers around her jaw.

"Open," he demanded, pressing his half hard cock into her mouth and throat, using his fluids as lubrication. The sound he made, a half growl half cry, smoothed over her like magic. Her eyes watered at the feel of him.

George vanished her clothes. "Swallow," he said softly.

She tried, choking slightly, feeling what was left of his cum spill out of her mouth and down her throat and chest. He smiled, pulling her up and kissing her tenderly.

"Just in time for rush hour, Granger," he told her, a teasing fondness in his voice.

"You were serious?"

He grinned, tilting his head back and laughing as his hands slid over her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. She pressed closer to him, lips smoothing over the curve of his throat. She ached to bite him, but know he wouldn't appreciate as much-

"I'm not one for jokes."

They smiled at each other.

The curtains to her largest window tied themselves open. He touched her face fondly. His jerked his chin toward her living room.

"Go."

* * *

 

The casual control that laced his voice caused her to tremble excitedly, a small smile forming on her lips as she started toward the window. She only hesitated when she realized that it was, in fact, rush hour. They were a few floors up, and the people on the street carried umbrellas, but she couldn't help the nervous feeling that blossomed through her.

George filled the space behind her, his strong arms crossing over her chest as he held her to him, his lips on her ear and throat in a slow crawl. His body was thin and hips narrow against hers, cock bobbing heavily at her back, and there was no mistaking who he was in that moment.

She had to admit that she loved it.

He dropped a hand between her thighs, fingers finding her more than ready for him. He hummed appreciatively, hands covering her hips as he angled himself between her thighs, rubbing himself against her. He lifted one hand to press her into the window, holding her there when she jolted at its coldness. "Relax," he told her tauntingly.

George hooked her arms over his, forearm heavy against her back as he took his cock in his free hand, rubbing against her clit repeatedly. "You're so wet for me, Hermione," he commented, his voice just barely louder than her mews of pleasure. "You enjoy this, don't you? Using...being used?"

He buried himself inside of her with a few lazy thrusts. "Fuuuuck," he sighed.

She closed her eyes, hips wiggling in attempt to get him to move.

His fingers brushed her thigh affectionately just before he made good on his promise, pounding her with long, hard thrusts that left her gasping and crying for more, hands aching to touch him.

"George," she panted, tilting her hips for more of him.

He chuckled out a growl. "You love my cock, don't you, baby?"

She moaned her agreeance, leaning heavily into the window as she pressed herself into him. The glass soothed her too hot skin.

"You love it stretching your little cunt. You love me taking my pleasure from you, don't you?" He chuckled at her throaty cry, relaxing her arms and taking her hips in his hands, angling her how he wanted. He and the window supported her trembling body, her hands reaching to touch him. "I know you do," he told her mockingly. "I can feel it baby. You take me so perfectly," he told her softly, contrasting the thrust of his hips. "Like you were made for me. You were, weren't you?

"Mine," he murmured.

It felt like he rolled the word around in his mouth. Like he'd practiced it silently for months and savored speaking it out loud. She gave a soft cry, feeling his nails biting her skin.

"You've always been mine, haven't you? Even when-"

She gasped, eyes popping open and hands coming up to lay flat on the window. It was the first time he'd ever addressed her dating his brother.

"Even when you were his," his voice was even lower now, pulled from his throat with a mixture of hurt and desire she understood too well.

George let go of her hips in favor of pulling her to his chest, his arms around her comfortingly. She cried at the feel of her full weight pressing her down onto his cock, her walls pulsing in attempt to accommodate. He kissed her softly beneath her ear, cock falling away as he turned to lay her over the back of her couch. She pushed her hips back to him eagerly, feeling his fingers at her entrance instead.

It was too much. A never-ending blow to her entire existence she couldn't get over or move past. 

"Please," she begged, "I want to feel you."

"Taste yourself," he encouraged, fingers hooking against her cheek as he aligned himself behind her. "Good girl. Tilt your hips a little." He hummed appreciatively as she did as asked, pushing into her gently. "Touch yourself."

"I love you, George."

He grinned, kissing her shoulder. "I know," he commented, stroking slowly. His cock jerked as she began to tremble around him.

"You've always been mine."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading<3
> 
> If you enjoy my writing, it'd mean a lot to me if you followed my new tumblr _honeyweeds_ , it's dedicated to fics and I'd really love to connect with you. Drop a line letting me know you're a fan of _Cruel Games_ and I'll write a mini moment of any rare pair you'd like!
> 
> I'll also be following blogs back!
> 
> Link is on profile.


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